


Toughest Critic

by cazmalfoy



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1724525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Any performance is nerve wracking, but actors at Cardiff's New Theatre have it harder than most. If they want the show to continue uninterrupted, they must impress their toughest critics. Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toughest Critic

The show had started not too long ago and all Ianto could hear was Jack singing along with the performers – at the top of his lungs, making no effort to be quiet about it.

“I swear, Jack,” he finally cried, turning in his chair to face his partner. “Can’t you sit through one performance without singing louder than the cast?”

Jack scowled, finally stopping singing and diverting his attention away from the show, looking over at Ianto in annoyance. “If they were doing their jobs properly, I wouldn’t have to provide my own entertainment!”

“It’s the first night. Give them the benefit of the doubt. They’ll get better,” Ianto reasoned.

Jack scoffed and rolled his eyes. “If they can’t get it right on opening night – after god knows how many months of rehearsals – it doesn’t bode well for…”

He trailed of when his gaze traveled down from their box to the stalls below them. “Look at that guy,” he instructed, pointing to the end of one of the rows.

In the dim light coming from the stage, Ianto could just about make out what Jack meant. A middle-aged man was sitting clutching his chest, his face contorted with pain. A pain that appeared to be going unnoticed by the people around him.

“No one’s doing anything,” Ianto muttered, leaning forward in his seat, silently urging someone to notice. When no one did, he turned to Jack with a worried expression on his face.

“We should do something,” Jack nodded, getting to his feet as Ianto moved away to raise the alarm.

~

The fireman handed him the report with a shake of his head. “The alarm isn’t faulty and there’s no way its sensitive enough to go off without assistance,” he concluded.

Owen Harper smiled and shook his hand, “Thank you for your help,” he said politely, escorting the other man out of the building.

Gwen Cooper watched as the doors closed before turning to Owen, “What happened then?”

“Officially?” Owen chuckled. “Unexplainable circumstances.”

“And unofficially?” Gwen pressed, following the theatre manager into the main auditorium where the cleaners were finishing up.

Owen heaved a sigh and looked at his colleague, Tosh Sato, who was discussing something with the lighting manager. The Japanese woman grinned and nodded her head knowingly. “Jack and Ianto,” she stated, before turning back to her tasks.

“Who are Jack and Ianto?” Gwen demanded. She hadn’t been working there as an usher for too long, but she did know there wasn’t anyone who working in the theatre with those names.

“Do you believe in the supernatural?” Owen suddenly asked.

Gwen shook her head. “My mam says that’s all poppycock and nonsense.”

“Well there’s not much point in me telling you the story, then,” Owen retorted, brushing past the young Welshwoman.

But she wouldn’t let it go and followed him. “What story?”

He paused, studying her before he sighed heavily. “In 1932 there was a fire in that section of the theatre.” He pointed over the boxes on the left hand side of the theatre. “Mostly it was structural damage, nothing that couldn’t be repaired. Except for box two. One of the beams was weakened by the fire and crashed down, killing the occupants; Captain Jack Harkness, Royal Air Force, and Colonel Ianto Jones, British Army.”

“But how do they factor in to what happened last night?” Gwen demanded, placing her hands on her hips and frowning in confusion.

“Jack and Ianto never left this theatre, Gwen,” Owen rolled his eyes, picking up a leaflet the cleaners had missed. “To this day they remain in this building, watching each performance from the same box they died in.” He nodded over at the box he had pointed at previously.

“Oh, come off it,” Gwen scoffed, “You can’t believe that!”

“I’ve seen them,” Owen stated. “If the performers aren’t doing their best, Jack will sing as loud as he can; sometimes you can hear him, sometimes you can’t. But when the show is good and everything’s going smoothly, he pays attention and keeps his mouth shut. Ianto usually rolls his eyes and pretends Jack doesn’t exist.”

“They don’t exist,” Gwen insisted. “They can’t.”

Owen chuckled and shook his head. “Someone – or something – set that smoke alarm off last night. It’s never happened before with that particular alarm and there’s no reason why it should have gone off.”

Gwen still didn’t look convinced and Owen continued, “If you’re so sure, I’m going to put you in here tonight. Keep your eye on that box; we keep it empty – it’s always locked, the cleaners and I are the only ones with a key. See for yourself – then tell me, they aren’t real.”

~

Two songs into the show, Gwen remembered why she had been stationed inside the auditorium – it had been such a busy day, she had completely forgotten.

Making sure everything was okay in the stalls, she glanced at box number two. She had tried the door just before the doors opened and it had definitely been locked. So there was no way the current occupants should have gotten inside.

Both men appeared to have been in their late twenties – or early thirties, and they appeared to be glowing and translucent. 

The one on the left was wearing a light shirt and braces, while his hair flopped down over his forehead. The other was wearing a dark suit with a light shirt. Two greatcoats – one RAF and one army, presumably – were draped over the balcony. 

Neither of them were speaking, both were leaning back in their seats, enjoying the show and…

~

“They were holding hands!” Gwen insisted to Owen after the show had finished and the patrons had left.

Owen rolled his eyes and slumped in to the seat he was stood near. “Of course they were.”

“You said they died in 1932!” Gwen shrieked. “Being gay was illegal back then!”

“So? Plenty of things are illegal now, but people still do them,” Owen pointed out. “They met in… I have no idea where. Spain, France, some European country. According to records, Jack transferred from the American Air Force to the British, not long after returning from Europe. That was around the same time Ianto returned from services overseas. It doesn’t take a genius to see the pattern.”

“Which one was Jack?” Gwen asked quietly.

“The one with the braces,” Owen replied, getting to his feet and stretching his back, it was getting late, Katie would wonder where he was. 

“He wasn’t singing.”

“Really?” Owen chuckled, “I’ll be sure to tell the cast they did a good job. Goodnight, Ms Cooper,” he nodded, brushing past her to set about locking the place up for the night.

Gwen sighed heavily and looked up at the empty box, to find it wasn’t as empty as it had been a short while ago. Now there was the man in braces – Jack, she told herself – leaning on the balcony, watching her with a smirk on his face.

She shifted uncomfortably, feeling unnerved at the thought of being studied by a ghost. Before she had chance to fell too uneasy, another figure – Ianto – appeared behind Jack and slapped the back of his head.

Gwen couldn’t tell what was being said, but the look of indignation on Jack’s face was a clear enough indication that he had just been told off.

Jack righted himself when he felt Ianto hit him. “How is it that I’m a ghost but you can still hit me?” he demanded, putting his hands on his hips and turning to face the other man.

“Because I’m a ghost too,” Ianto pointed out. “Checking out my replacement?” he joked, nodding at Gwen over Jack’s shoulder.

The Captain rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around Ianto’s neck. “Nah,” he scoffed. “Owen’s more my type.”

“It’ll be a while before he dies though,” Ianto pointed out.

“True,” Jack agreed, stepping closer to his lover. “Guess, I’ll just have to make do with you until then.”

Ianto grinned back at him, “Guess so,” he whispered, kissing him lightly as they disappeared from view until that night’s performance.

The End


End file.
